#cardiophilia writing

[roxiewyatthb]

Exam Room Performance

Synopsis: Fantasy Hospital. Doctors and Nurses are in silk robes and examine your heart in unique ways. Speaker stethoscopes, big screen ultrasounds, and plenty of exercise. As requested by @aheartsbeat wc: 1.2k cw: none

The room is cold and bleak, typical for an examination room. However, this was far from your typical examination room. This one was special. Different.

Each doctor and nurse wore luxurious silk robes with nothing underneath -- hard nipples and obvious bulges were not so hidden under the thin fabric.

And you. You also wore one of these robes. It was your favorite color and much different from your average, cheap hospital gown.

The room while it lacked in color and decoration, made up for it with the most interesting instruments you've ever seen; a giant screen that took up nearly an entire wall and stethoscopes with unusual bells.

Bells that looked like mini speakers.

On the other side of the room was a single stationary bike and treadmill. Would you be using those too?

"Please, lay down." One of the doctors spoke up in a soft tone, gesturing at the bed behind you.

Even the bed was different. Instead of those horrendous, rock-solid "beds" in normal hospitals, this one looked much softer -- comfortable.

And you were correct.

This bed rivaled the one you had at home. Soft and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep on this.

But a sleep study was not on the agenda for today.

Today you were going to be put through several cardiology examinations.

This small reminder caused your heart to pick up speed.

Looking back at the screen and stethoscopes on the wall, you pondered what they could possibly do with those. Soon, your questions will be answered.

With you now lying on the bed, several doctors and nurses got to work.

Some grabbed stethoscopes from the wall, two others grabbed what you assumed were ultrasound wands, while one started to set up the screen on the wall.

You gulped nervously and tried to focus on your breathing but your chest moved with each pounding beat of your chest -- giving away your excitement to the room.

The nurses with the stethoscopes gathered around one side of your bed while the doctors with the wands gathered on the other side. The one by the screen stood over by it.

Without warning, one of the doctors untied the knot on your robe, opening it up and exposing your chest to the room.

A few beats after that, cold gel was applied to your skin right over your heart and the two doctors with the wands placed them down on your chest.

In an instant, you saw your heart pounding on the giant screen on the wall.

It showed two different views. You're unsure which ones you're seeing, but you can't deny it was mesmerizing.

Watching your valves snap open and closed. Pounding harder at the scene but still staying strong and steady.

"Look at your heart," The doctor by the screen said while lifting their arm as if presenting it. "It's working hard...it's truly something, isn't it?"

Before you could think of a response to the question you felt several cold objects against your body -- the nurses holding the stethoscopes -- and quickly the room filled with the sound of your heart beating in sync with the ultrasound on the screen.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Loud and fast.

You wondered how fast it was going until you realized the numbers in the far corner of the screen.

"128 BPM".

And steadily climbing.

You notice it get to around the 140s before the doctor at the front of the room once again speaks up.

"Okay, now I'm going to ask you to work your pump out for a bit." They paused for a second, "10 minutes on both the treadmill and bike at the highest intensity setting should be good enough."

And with that, the nurses and other doctors removed themselves from you, allowing you to get off of the bed and onto the stationary bike to start.

Once you were settled there, two nurses and one doctor put their instruments back on your chest, your heart on display and beats filling the room once more.

You started to pedal and quickly your heart rate picked up.

"That's good, just like that." The doctor praised you while watching your valves snap violently.

140...145...149...153...

Your heart was now racing.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Your breathing picked up, lungs trying to provide enough oxygen for your hard-working heart.

Finally, you reached mid 170s while on the bike and the doctor let you take a short break to catch your breath.

You felt your heart move the hands of the nurses and doctor up and down with each beat, hearing the chaos through the speaker stethoscopes. Watching the screen along with everyone else.

Your heart still beat strong and unwavering.

Only about 30 seconds passed before you were asked to move to the treadmill, wobbling your way over.

Two different nurses and the other ultrasound doctor now joined your side, waiting for you to adjust the intensity of the treadmill, then they placed their instruments on your chest just like the previous ones.

Just like the other times, your heart presented itself on the screen. Your heart rate lowered a bit, now at the low 130s.

But that would quickly change.

The belt started to move and you got to work, along with your heart.

As if it knew the deal already, your heart rate skyrocketed fast, reaching high 180s within 2 minutes.

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

"You can do better than that." You swore you heard that one doctor say something again but you weren't sure. It could've been your own mind saying that this time.

No matter, you still pushed yourself.

You picked up your pace on the treadmill, breathing even heavier now, heart pounding and racing harder and faster as everyone in the room listened and watched intently.

Your valves were moving at such speeds that they seemed to not be moving at some points.

186...190...194...199...

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

You felt as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest by now. Your pulse roaring and bouncing off the walls, throbbing against your neck -- you even felt it in the rest of your body.

200

You let out a sigh of relief as you were asked to stop the machine. Slowing down until it came to a complete stop.

Without removing the wand and stethoscopes from your chest, the nurses helped guide you back to the bed where you laid down again and tried to catch your breath.

Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute. Throbbing almost painfully against your chest. Now with this new angle, you were able to see it visibly shake your entire body, taking the hands of the nurses and doctor with it.

You turn your head to view the screen, watching as your heart slows but still continues to thump with purpose, now within the 150s range.

"Good job. We'll just keep you here, listening and watching your heart until it reaches approximately 60 to 70 beats per minute." The doctor that stood by the screen said with a smile.

At this rate, you'll be in this room with your heart on display all day.

Not that you were complaining.

[materiaheartt]

Finally decided to do some writing!

Click here to read

incredibly self-indulgent with these two

private link to avoid tags, hope you understand ^^

[risherrd]

#heart beats. write privately and please share me

[sweeter-than-teafood]

One very minor criticism of Sitri’s design, from the viewpoint of someone who shares this guy’s kink irl,

Okay, so bby likes to listen to hearts. Mood af.

But as someone who does that irl with the person I’m romantically involved with, the following position is so comfortable for that purpose;

Laying snuggled up into their left side, right ear directly over heart. Much easier than laying at their right side, because the heart is more situated towards the left. Optimal af.

So whyyyyyyy

Horn on the right hand side of his head? The horn would poke someone if he tried to snuggle from the left side, seeing how it curves around/over his ear.

Bby can’t even have optimal cardiophile snuggles. Crying in the club right now.

Note: this isn’t a serious criticism, he’s perfect af. I was just thinking about scenarios for my writing and was like “Ah shit, he can’t do the best kind of cardiophile snuggles.”

[severedfromthesource]

Vampire’s Gift

Angelique lets Catarina play their favorite game with the unsuspecting Lucien. NSFW. Features M resus, F rescuer, CPR, conscious and unconscious mouth to mouth, precordial thumps, sex leading to cardiac arrest, sex acts on an unconscious person.

“Am I not enough plaything for you, chérie?”

Catarina playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t be so pathetic, love. You know my heart only belongs to you.” Angelique slid her long arms around her love and drew her in close against her body, staring out at the dark street of Paris. Lights burned everywhere, so Paris was never really dark, merely dimmed by night. The two of them were under the vampire’s shroud, for all intents and purposes invisible to the people of the city. They’d only be seen by those they wanted to see.

“I just think it would be fun to be the hero for once. And you don’t need a hero,” said Catarina, tapping at the beast’s chest and the long dead heart beneath. Angelique wanted to argue, but she also couldn’t be sure the organ hadn’t been eaten by worms before she returned as the undead. She went on, “You’ll take one for me, won’t you? I have one in mind.”

“How could I deny you anything?” replied Angelique.

So they walked through the nightlife in search of their damsel. Catarina adored her angel’s every form, when she took on the aspects of a man with a more rigid and bat like face, or a great black dog, or sometimes even when she was only a cloud of fog clinging to her naked skin and filing her lungs. Angelique had a better cock in some forms than any man she’d known, yet lately she had felt the ache for a living one. She missed taking a man in her hand and feeling it twitch with his heartbeat. Plus, if she got to be the hero for once, she thought it would be fun to ride someone in and out of the little deaths, the petit morte, that her beast had perfected. Their search brought them to the back alley of the perfumer’s shop.

“Lucien,” whispered Angelique, plucking the owners name from the ether, “Come down, Lucien, and let us in.” Catarina bounced a little on the balls of her toes. Ever since having seen this man on her last trip into the city, she’d thought about the older perfumer and what he would look like between her thighs, or with Angelique taking him in a masculine form from behind. Tonight though, she had something else in mind. She practically squealed with delight and clapped quickly as the bolt on the door audibly came undone and Lucien opened it for them.

Angelique could not fault her for her attraction. He was handsome and broad, old enough to be Catarina’s father, but he wore each line well. A little gray peppered his beard and temples, stark against his otherwise dark hair. His rich coffee colored eyes were dull under her spell, mouth slightly agape. The two of them entered with his permission and stood amidst his workshop.

“This is well enough,” Catarina announced. She shoved a few of his implements off his work table, which smelled of every oil and perfume which had ever soaked into its wood, and took him by the shoulder to sit on the edge. She hiked up her layers of skirts and petticoats and climbed so she sat astride him. She nodded to her beast and the beast rolled her long fingers in the air. Lucien sucked in a breath, eyes regaining their light. “Wh-What? Where…” He looked to find himself in his workshop. Upon seeing her he gasped and tried to scramble back, only to find himself pinned under her, and his strength oddly lacking. “I was sleeping, I- what’re you doing here?” Catarina pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush, dear one. You’re still asleep.”

He stared at her with wide, entranced eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. With her mane of gold curls and the freckles going down her nose to the top of her breasts, rounded by her corset. Something whispered in his mind that she was right, he was still asleep. He had to be. She urged him down with his back against the workshop table and he went without complaint. He saw her eyes slide to the far corner, but he didn’t see the thing in the shadows.

“My mind has conjured a beauty,” he whispered in a sort of reverent tone. Catarina smiled, leaning over him to place her delicate fingers against his jawline and tilt his head up. Her mouth devoured his with a hunger, and she reveled in the feeling of his warm aliveness. She felt a pang of foreign sadness inside her the same moment she allowed herself to appreciate his body, and she sent a soothing pulse of thought back to her creature. ‘My heart only belongs to you’, it said without words. The shadows seemed to hum appreciatively, and the pitiful feeling melted away from her mind.

The dream woman, who felt all too solid and real to Lucien, slid her hand up over the soft down on his belly and trailed up to his chest. She shifted, and he moaned a little in his throat when he felt she wore no underthings, and her warmth and wetness soaked against him. She was already deeply excited, but he didn’t know the real reason why. He couldn’t have imagined what lay in store for him.

She coiled her hands in the hem of his nightshirt and with surprising strength, ripped the thing to the middle, then grabbed hold of it again to rip the rest of the way to the collar. Lucien tried to assure himself this was merely a dream, and the garment would be well when he woke up. Then she leaned over him and sealed her mouth over one of his nipples and he thought no more of the torn shirt.

“Slower.”

Something whispered in his mind and he jolted slightly. His heart, which had been speeding up and beginning to pound under the dream woman’s hands and warm mouth, suddenly stumbled as if at war with itself. It was as though some invisible hand had clutched the organ and held it still before it beat too fast.

Catarina smirked, still suckling at the hard bud of his nipple. She dug her teeth into it a little and rolled it between her jaws, winning a small hiss. She released it, laying her body across his to claim his mouth instead. He made a muffled noise of surprise when her tongue plumbed between his teeth, but relaxed after a moment and returned the kiss.

“Slower.”

Another stumble. This one hurt though. He felt the uneven beat in his temples and in his stomach, hissing in a breath. “Mmh,” he mumbled, pulling away slightly. “My heart… feels funny,” he told the dream woman.

Catarina circled one of his nipples with her index finger. “Oh? Poor thing. Maybe you’re dying in your sleep.” His eyes went wide and she giggled, tongue poking out between her teeth. She glanced at Angelique again, and again her angel whispered, “Slower” into the air and into Lucien’s heart. He groaned, clutching his chest with one hand. She slid down and freed him from his trousers, and despite his growing panic, he was still growing hard at her movements. His cock jumped when his heart tried to correct for another stumble and beat particularly hard.

“What is this?” he groaned, feeling the sluggish beat as his heart struggled seemingly without cause. It moved slow, he could practically feel each lapping wave of blood in his circulation. The growing spaces between tides was beginning to hurt, and more than that, they worried him.

Catarina sat back up astride him, her hands braced against his chest. She rolled her hips so her sex merely brushed against his hardness, teasing between her lips. Her aching clit throbbed with her pulse, and when she slid his shaft over the hood there, both of them moaned. Her head fell back as she continued to rut against him, feeling the flushed heat of him. Angelique, when she took on a man’s shape, would be kind enough to warm her dead flesh at the fireplace so she could mimic these sensations while inside her, but this was different. Real alive warmth. It was the only thing she really missed from human partners. That, and lying in the afterglow with an ear to their chest as they drifted back down from heaven.

Lucien was sprawled against the workshop table in a tug of war between panic and ecstasy. Her wet cunt slid up and down the length of him, and he wanted to grab her hips and spear her to stop this agonizingly slow game. But his limbs felt weak. His head was growing fuzzy. It didn’t feel like a dream, but some twisted and sinful nightmare. He expected to wake up and see a succubus draining the breath from his lungs. Maybe she was right. Maybe he really was dying in his sleep. Air was becoming harder to draw in, and his heart wasn’t contracting all the way.

Catarina tugged at the neckline of her dress, her ample breasts spilling over the hard ribbing of her corset. She lay down across the perfumer’s naked chest, her weight constricting his breathing all the more. “Shhh,” she soothed, cupping his face in her palm, her thumb tracing over his quivering lips. “You have nothing to fear, dear one.” Then she slid her hand up to pinch his nostrils, sealing her mouth over his to give him a breath. His chest rose under her and she felt his lungs expand with her air. He expelled the excess in a puff when she broke the life giving kiss. Reaching between them, she finally took hold of his stiff cock. The fear and adrenaline warring with her beast’s instructions to his heart had done little to soften him. She gave him another breath, and when she reached the end she gave him a little more than needed, his ribs rounding beneath her. Then she slid him inside her as she let go and he gave a breathy moan.

She felt amazing. Her tight, warm walls enveloped him and the aching need he’d felt waned. He bucked his hips once, twice, but his body was too weak to thrust up into her. Her arousal dripped down the crease of his thighs and cooled against his skin when it hit the air. The succubus, which he now was convinced she was, began to rock against him. His length tapped now and then against her cervix and she groaned, still holding his nose closed for respirations. He was not aware, but he was the largest cock she’d ever taken from a human. He wanted to moan and voice his pleasure the same as her. He wanted to grab her hips and drive himself into her again and again. But his breaths wouldn’t come, and his heart refused to speed up into that delirious, hammering bliss he’d always known during sex. The succubus was kind enough to give him breaths between thrusts, and all he could do was rumble in the back of his throat when he had the breath to make noise.

Catarina sat back, pressing her palm firmly against the apex of his heart. She slowed her gyrations to be in time with the slow beat she felt there. His fingers tightened against her hip, his mouth gaping without her breaths. He tapped a few times in a mute plea for her oxygen. She smirked down at him. “Angelique,” she called to the shadows. The corner of blackness chuckled as two eyes reflected in the sparse moonlight tilting from the nearby window.

The creature rolled her fingers in the air again and spoke her command to the poor trapped man. “Your lungs…” The perfumer looked towards her corner and finally saw, with wide and naked fear on his face, what lie there. “Do you feel the last wisp of air being squeezed from them?” As she said this, she rolled her fingers into her palm and tensed her hand. His chest spasmed. Then it went still as his lungs arrested.

Catarina began to buck her hips faster as his hand fell away from her leg. His head lay tilted to the side, his eyes wide and mouth hung open. His heart stumbled beneath her hand, and she kept one against his ribs and slid the other against his thigh to feel the weak swell of his femoral. Her stomach tightened, her breath quickening as her climax drew near. Hands appeared from behind and slid over the planes of her corset. Angelique took hold of the middle of her restrictive finery and tore it in one motion. Catarina sucked in a completely unobstructed breath and cried out. Arms encircled her as she slammed him into herself, smoothing over her exposed belly and dipping between her legs to her and Lucien’s joining. Her swollen clit was a raw bundle of nerves when the vampire’s claw glided across its surface. It took only a few moments of Angelique’s cool hand fingering her there before she came, screaming and bucking. She felt the perfumer’s heart, which had been locked in a sort of half death- beating, stopping for long moments, beating twice, shaking, lub… lubdublub… lub…- until finally it ceased at the moment of their shared orgasm. His warm seed spilled inside her and she collapsed back into Angelique’s waiting arms, bosom heaving. Lucien’s cock twitched inside her, the last movement of his body before he began to soften with the lack of blood flow.

Catarina swiped her hair back from her face and took a moment to catch her breath. “Ah,” she sighed, “Thank you, darling. You’ve given me quite a gift. I’ll grant you one in return.” She took his face by the chin and rolled his head back up to look at her, his eyes empty, his pupils blown wide. She chalked that up to his pleasure fueled heights before the drop into cardiac arrest. It would be a shame if he remained dead.

She laid across him again and gave him her breaths, his body pliable and yielding to her. She briefly rutted against the curve of his cock once more, shivering with sensitivity after being so thoroughly sated, then planting her hands in the middle of his chest. She shoved up into his heart, forcing his ribcage in. His shoulders shrugged inward and the force rippled out through his entire body. Her breath quickened and she grew excited all over again. She grunted as she drove another quick compression down into his sternum, watching how it rounded his toned, furry stomach, rocking his head back. Catarina had never been the one doing the saving. The rush was immediate and consuming as a wildfire. I am holding his life in my hands. I am the only thing between this man and oblivion. She found herself panting out little breaths as she started the compressions in earnest, rising up a little on her knees so she could use all the strength in her body for his sake.

Angelique slid to the head of the workbench, her eyes flickering between the dead man and her dove. There was a light in her love’s eyes that set the vampire alight. She truly was enjoying this. It gave her every sort of satisfaction to have given her this gift, something she knew her love had longed for so long. The jealousy she had harbored began to ebb as she watched her dutifully pound into the perfumer’s chest. She leaned down, her lips just brushing Lucien’s ear, her cold cheek pressed to his, which was growing paler. “My lady will be awfully disappointed if you do not live,” she whispered so only his barely tethered consciousness heard, “Your heart must beat again for her, Lucien. Come back.”

Cold lips brushed his ear. The succubus’ sex brushed warmly against his soft cock, jerking against her with every brutal pump against his heart. His heart had stopped. He really had died in his sleep, he thought. But he knew he wasn’t sleeping now. No corner of his imagination could conjure this up. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even roll his eyes in their sockets. They were planted straight ahead where they had drifted at the moment of his death, staring up at some point between the ceiling and the succubus’s face. His vision bobbed with his head, every compression forcing it to swing her face in and out of his line of sight. She really was beautiful. A belle mort. He knew somehow she had been responsible for his death. Now, she was working desperately for his resurrection. It didn’t make sense. But he wanted to do as the voice commanded. He wanted to come back.

Truthfully, there was little left in Lucien’s life worth continuing it. His wife had died last spring of the fever sweeping the lower city. His daughters had died in their cradles the years before that. He had nothing but the stinking perfume shop to fill his days. If he had died, buried inside this beautiful demon sat astride him now, currently shoving her delicate hands against his chest, he wouldn’t have complained. He would have met the devil, for surely a succubus would have damned his soul to hell, and he would have accepted an afterlife of punishment for those few moments of bliss.

She paused her rhythmic pounding and leaned over, kissing him again. Her breath was so warm. It smelled sweet, and tasted of ambrosia when her tongue briefly flicked his own. He knew then that he wanted to come back. He wanted to please her. He would dedicate the rest of his life to this vision who had stolen it from him. Beat. Beat for her, useless thing. Bats pour elle, espèce de sac inutile.

Catarina was panting by now, sweat standing out on her skin and beading between her breasts. Dread had started to well up in the bottom of her stomach. Had she really killed him for good? “Angelique?” she asked, looking over at her beast, “Is it too late? Have I lost him?” The yellow discs of her eyes in the darkness turned towards the dead man’s chest and focused on the vanishing warmth within him. His heart struggled behind his ribs. It beat once, then stopped. Half the chambers moved, but the others wouldn’t pump. “Listen,” she told her. Catarina lay down on top of him and rested her ear against his chest.

“Poor dear,” she breathed out, “You really are trying to be strong, aren’t you?” She had no way of knowing how badly he was trying. Screaming in his mind for his heart to beat, trapped in a dying body. She pinched his nose shut again, tipping his head back as she rose once more. “Then I won’t give up either, dear one. Your heart is safe in my hands.” It was a contradiction to her actions, considering she had been the one to make it stop in the first place. But Lucien believed her. She didn’t want him to die. For the first time in so long, he didn’t want to die either.

She returned to her compressions with renewed vigor, throwing her whole weight behind each measured blow. It had been about twelve minutes of struggling cardiac activity, and her arms, her shoulders, the core of her stomach, were all getting sore. Angelique never tired when she played the hero, and Catarina was on the verge of asking her to help. “You’ve got this,” her beast purred. It wouldn’t be so sweet a victory if she wasn’t the one to claw him back. Angelique tipped her face against his once more and whispered again, “Come back, little one. Focus on those weak beats and make them strong again.” As she spoke, she skated her hand down his ribs and felt them bow to Catarina’s thrusts. Her preternatural eyes watched his heart struggle, and went from unevenly beating now and then to fluttering.

Catarina let out a frustrated growl when she felt his heart stop altogether, no longer even trying to beat. The quivering was too weak for her to detect. “Please, take a breath. I won’t be able to take if you really died,” she panted. Angelique moved to the side of the workbench, easing Catarina back a little. “Just a moment, dove.”

She raised her fist up and thumped him hard between the line of his nipples. The quivering heart, jolted by the kinetic force, beat once and then descended again into fibrillation. She struck him again. This time, it beat for a few seconds, then shook uselessly again. The third time, Catarina tried. She brought up both hands, clutched together in a fist, and beat the organ hard enough his entire body jolted from the force of the blow. But his eyes closed and he drew in a rasping breath as finally, it worked. Lucien was alive. She was giddy with endorphins as she sat back, breathing hard.

“Good show,” Angelique chuckled, wrapping an arm around her love and squeezing one of her breasts, soaking in the way her heart pounded from the exertion of resuscitation.

Catarina giggled, cupping Lucien’s face. “Apologies, dear one. That was more than you bargained for, wasn’t it?” She leaned down to give him a breath and ease his rasping. She startled a bit when he lunged up and, with what little strength was left in him, kissed her passionately and with great desperation and hunger. She pulled back, a little shocked. He propped himself halfway up on his elbows, looking up at her. His eyes were manic and round, black as a deep well given how blown out his pupils were.

“My lady,” he wheezed, “I am yours.”

[kk095]

Life and Death in the ER: Dr Lindsay

*Good evening everyone, I hope all is well. I greatly appreciate all the positive feedback on my last story Alexa's Arrhythmia! I'd like to try something a little different with the story you're about to read. Although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, I think it's a great opportunity for you guys to get to know some of our go-to characters a little better. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!*

Aside from medicine, Dr Lindsay’s passion in life is running. The cute, sporty tomboy doctor we all know and love was a college track star at the D1 college she attended once upon a time ago. Believe it or not, Lindsay had legitimate Olympic aspirations, and at one point in time, she was set to qualify for the United States women’s track team. But fate had other plans, which came in the form of a sudden, severe ACL and LCL tear in her left knee. Reconstructive surgery was performed and she of course recovered, but Lindsay definitely lost her X factor. Even though Lindsay could still run circles around 99% of humanity as a 33 year old with a bum knee, she lost that slight edge all those years ago, which is all it took for her Olympic hopes and dreams to go up in smoke. Sometimes Lindsay thought “what if?” in regards to her potential professional sports career, but at the same time, being an ER physician fulfilled her in a different way.

Lindsay truly embraced her role as a doctor and caretaker in the emergency department, always going the extra mile for her patients and thinking outside the box to try to save them. Time after time, Dr Lindsay found herself in the midst of life and death struggles in the trauma bay, always seeming to have her hands inside the chest of a beautiful woman. But right now, somewhere in an alternate reality, the role was reversed, with Lindsay being the beauty fighting for her life in the all too familiar emergency department.

The room Lindsay found herself in was quite a scene. A cacophony of sound hit anyone the instant they set foot in the room. Alarms and monitors were going off. Orders were being barked. Footsteps pitter-pattered around the room. The high pitched, electrical whirring of defibrillators charging echoed around the room from yet another unsuccessful shock. The tension was palpable.

All across the floor of the room, various items were strewn about. Wrappers from bits of medical equipment were tossed to the ground. Empty, used up blood transfusion and IV bags found themselves discarded. Lindsay’s bloody, tattered clothes also wound up on the light colored tile after a brief encounter with a set of shears. Small droplets of blood made a trail leading from the room’s entrance, all the way over to where the trauma room table was.

On the table, underneath the harsh, bright, fluorescent overhead light was the center of attention for the room’s occupants. Dr Sarah, Nurse Nancy, and Nurse Heather worked as a trio, each lady knowing their role inside out, backwards and forwards, from A to Z. Everyone knew their jobs at an expert level, but it was easier said than done for the emergency department’s triumvirate to maintain composure and impartiality, considering a friend and colleague was the poor soul requiring their lifesaving services this time.

Nurse Nancy, the 20+ year veteran of the ER who’s been there, done that, and seen it all stood at the head of the bed ambu bagging, sending much needed air into Dr Lindsay’s lungs. The stress, chaos, gore, and shock that came with being an ER nurse never fazed Nancy, especially after being exposed to such things for over two decades. But in this scenario, Nancy struggled. This wasn’t a stranger on the table tonight. Nurse Nancy couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of the ER’s go-to, unanimously loved leader being the one on the table this time. Heck, Nancy couldn’t even bring herself to look down at the table, not wanting to see her friend’s face, or the overall shape she was in. There was a knot in Nancy’s stomach, and her heart was racing. She hoped and prayed Dr Lindsay would pull through, but as each minute ticked by, each one faster than the last, Nancy’s hope was soon replaced by dread.

Heather, our emergency team’s dependable, hardworking nurse who regularly showed her moxie, stood off to the side of the table, tasked with keeping an eye on the heart monitors in order to note any changes, as well as pushing meds and setting up any equipment Dr Sarah may need. Heather’s eyes were trained on the heart monitors, which displayed a squiggly, sinuous, unorganized line. That squiggly line Heather watched signified something called ventricular fibrillation- a situation where a patient’s heart is twitching instead of actually beating, typically requiring a defibrillator shock in order to restore normal cardiac activity. Ventricular fibrillation, commonly known as v-fib amongst healthcare professionals, was something Heather has seen more times than she could count during her handful of years as a nurse. However, Heather found herself stunned when eyeing the heart monitor, coming to the stark realization that a familiar face was the one being resuscitated this time.

Dr Sarah, the cute, petite, nerdy redheaded doctor who, for all intents and purposes, was Dr Lindsay’s right hand man and most important ally in the battlegrounds of the trauma bay, stood right up against the table, doing anything and everything to bring her fellow ER doc back. Sarah had her gloved hands inside Lindsay’s chest, which was splayed open earlier in the struggle via a clamshell thoracotomy. The redheaded doctor’s hands were firmly wrapped around Dr Lindsay’s boggy, fibrillating heart, vigorously massaging away. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Sarah’s internal compressions. “come on Linds… come on….” Sarah uttered under her breath, trying to fight the overwhelming emotions that attempted to consume her. “You were just talking to us Linds… Come on…” continued Sarah, trying to will Lindsay back amongst the living.

Sarah composed herself for a moment. “Let’s shock her again. Recharge the paddles to 30, Heather.” Ordered Sarah, stepping up to the plate. Heather did what she had to do. She set the crash cart to 30 joules and hit the charge button. The high pitched, electrical whining of the internal paddles charging filled the room as Heather handed Sarah the large, spoon shaped devices. Sarah pulled her hands out of Lindsay’s chest cavity and grabbed ahold of the internal paddles. Dr Sarah lowered the internal paddles into the gaping chasm of an incision site, around Lindsay’s erratically fluttering heart.

While her friends worked urgently to save her, Lindsay laid on the table, stripped completely nude, her toned, athletic body on full display in a room full of familiar faces, the violating nature of that fact going to the wayside due to the dire essence of the situation. Lindsay’s sandy, light brown hair was tied back in a messy bun or ponytail of sorts, being held in place with a black headband. The doctor’s icy, sky blue eyes remained open, her pupils the size of dimes, staring up above with a full blown death stare etched onto her face. She was intubated, with the ET tube being secured by a blue tube holder around the area of her mouth and lips. IV lines stuck out of both her arms. Her torso was littered with EKG electrodes and wires. A chest tube stuck out the left side of Lindsay’s ribs, redirecting blood and trapped air outwards. The rest of her upper torso, and belly to a lesser degree, were soaked with a combination of both blood and betadine. However, Lindsay’s chest was the main sight of shock and awe. Her chest had a large, crude, gash just below the nipple line, extending the entirety of her chest horizontally. Not only was there a massive gash, her sternum was sawed in half, and her chest was splayed open via a clamshell thoracotomy. A metal rib retractor sat dead center in her chest, keeping everything open. A large, metal vascular clamp stuck up and out of the incision site. Sarah could also be seen holding the internal defibrillator paddles in place in anticipation of a shock.

“Paddles charged. Everyone… CLEAR!” Dr Sarah called out, everyone else stepping back from the table. THWACK. The shock was delivered. “mmmph…” Lindsay moaned softly, her torso twitching sharply in response to Sarah’s shock. The trio paused after the shock. The monitors beeped fast and loud, everyone’s eyes looking over to see if there was a change. “Come on… she’s still in v-fib. I’m going again at 30. Everyone…. CLEAR!” shouted Dr Sarah, immediately shocking Lindsay again. Lindsay’s shoulders shrugged forward and her arms shivered, a wet thump being heard. Like before, Dr Lindsay’s heartbeat was unable to be restored. Sarah decided to up the ante, shocking her friend and coworker at 40 joules during the next go around. “MMMM!” Lindsay moaned louder, as if she could feel the stronger intensity of the shock. Again, v-fib persisted. “I’m going again at 40! Everyone…CLEAR!” Barked Sarah, determined to keep going. The next shock caused Lindsay’s toes to scrunch up hard at the far end of the table, showing off the bright white nail polish on her toes, along with the wavy, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 11 feet she was always so self conscious of.

Sarah wasn’t giving up, and neither was v-fib, so the fight was on. “Going again at 40! Everyone… CLEAR!!!” Sarah passionately yelled out, shocking Lindsay once more. Lindsay’s torso shot up and plopped back down hard all within the span of a second. The monitors kept alarming, but by that point, the trio tuned out the noise of the monitors, considering they were well aware there was a major problem. In the seconds after that shock, Lindsay’s heart fluttered and danced weakly for a moment, before coming to a sudden, complete stop. The heart monitors flatlined, and Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless inside her cracked open chest. Lindsay’s beautiful blue eyes stayed wide open, staring up above, almost as if she was watching her friends determine their next move.

The flatline on the monitors was an absolute gut punch for everyone. Sarah stood there holding the internal paddles, deep in rumination about her next move. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy shined a pen light into Lindsay’s eyes. Lindsay’s pupils were the size of dimes, completely blown, not reacting to the pen light in the slightest. “oh… poor baby…” Nancy uttered, placing the pen light back in her breast pocket. “Pupils fixed and dilated.” Nancy continued, informing everyone, shaking her head. Heather looked over at the heart monitor. “Asystole on the monitors, down 37 minutes.” Added Heather. There was a collective pause after Heather’s words. Nancy didn’t say anything, but she went ahead and detached the ambu bag from the ET tube, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. The two nurses looked over at Sarah, knowing they’ve done all they could for their friend, but needed Sarah to make the final call.

Dr Sarah stood there shell shocked. Sure, Sarah has lost patients before- any ER doctor has. But this was different. This was a coworker. A colleague. A leader. Someone she looked up to. But most importantly, this was a friend. Sarah felt morally and emotionally obligated to continue resuscitation efforts. How could she just give up on Lindsay? At the same time, Dr Sarah viewed the situation clinically and logically. She knew that all possible options were exhausted. An asystolic patient with a downtime of 37 minutes and blown pupils was too far gone for additional interventions. With all this in mind, Sarah snapped back to reality, eyeing each member of the trauma team. Dr Sarah didn’t say a word to any of them. Finally, her eyes looked over at the clock that sat on the back left wall of the room. Sarah gently placed the internal paddles back down on the crash cart, then peeled her blood soaked, latex gloves off, her heart racing, eventually making the dreaded announcement. “Time of death, 8:08pm…” Sarah’s voice wobbling, on the verge of tears.

Nobody said a word, but everyone knew exactly what to do next. Nurse Nancy switched off the flatlined monitors, silencing the once noisy, hectic room. Heather disconnected the EKG electrodes and removed the IVs from each of Dr Lindsay’s arms. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the open thoracotomy site, obscuring Lindsay’s inert, motionless heart from view. A toe tag was then filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled against the fine, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of Lindsay’s feet. Lastly, a cover was placed over Lindsay, concealing the hauntingly beautiful gaze forever etched onto her face. Unfortunately for Lindsay, a cruel twist of fate- and perhaps irony resulted in her dying in the very place she spent so much of her time. In this alternate reality, Dr Lindsay was now the hottie who laid toe tagged and under a sheet in the emergency department.

[cardiolove]

A shock

Max and Chris had known eachother for a little while, enough for max to discover the fact that Chris could do some weird stuff on command. Those said things included being able to raise his heart rate exponentially and heat his body up to a fever.

What they also had figured out about eachother is that they're both cardiophiles.

Max, short for maxine, was about 5'4, a bit on the curvier side and had blue hair. She also had an interest in medicine apart from cardiophilia.

Chris was about 5'9, tanner skinned and his hair was about as long as Max's but it was black. He was neither skinny to the point of bone but not obese either, somewhere along skinny fat.

They had planned a meeting at Max's house, not for their usual coffee and chit chat, but for a little medical fun. Truth is, they found eachother attractive and were close enough in age so that it wouldn't be weird. They had loosely made up a scenario they would role-play to and how it would eventually end, at least that's what Chris thought. What he didn't know was that Maxine had prepared a surprise for him.

Maxine sat in her kitchen, sipping a coffee and excitedly awaiting the doorbell. She was wearing scrubs, the type that doctors wear while working in the emergency room, and a Littman stethoscope draped around her neck.

After about 15 minutes and half a coffee later, the long awaited ring sounded and Max shot out of her chair like she had been electrocuted, spilling a bit of her coffee on the table.

At the door stood Chris, slightly winded from the stairs he had to walk up. He was wearing a loose black tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. His hands were carrying a skateboard and his hair was lightly stuck to his forehead as the heat of outside had caused him to sweat a bit.

"Hii!! Come on in" she excitedly says, jittery from the coffee and the thought of finally being able to enact a long lasting fantasy of hers.

"Hey, sorry for being late I had to pick something up" he says as he sets his skateboard down next to the door. He takes off his sneakers and then pulls out a small bag with 2 brightly coloured candies. "Had to pick these up from my friend Molly" he continues with a wink.

"Oh" she says, a smirk growing on her face as she sees his actions. "Do you want something to drink? A coffee or something?" She offers as Chris puts the bag back into his pocket.

"No coffee, wouldn't want my heart to actually explode now. Just some water for those 2" he said, chuckling. As she went to fetch the two of them some glasses of water, he oriented himself to the nearest mirror, angled his head up, and admired how his pulse was visibly beating already, excitement driving his naturally elevated heart rate even higher.

"Should we take these now or later?" Maxine asks, coming back with two glasses of water. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing him, she traced her eyes up and down his arms, torso, legs, neck, shamelessly.

"Now's the best time, you have to wait a few minutes for them to take effect" he said, passing her a piece, grabbing a glass and swallowing the candy piece. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable" he reassures Maxine, seeing her looking intensely at the candy. She tells him it's fine and immediately swallows it, this being one of the last few times she's going to do what he tells her.

"Go ahead and get comfortable in the other room, the doctor will be with you shortly" Maxine tells, tearing a hard inhale from Chris as he nods and heads off to the bedroom. When the brunette enters the room his eyes glisten when he sees and ekg machine and a defibrillator, even if they won't truly be used he could still already feel himself stiffening and his heart thud against his sternum harder.

As he sits on the bed and takes a few breaths, their scenario not starting with full on panic level tachycardia, the door opens and Maxine walks in, her stethoscope swaying around her neck.

"Hello Mr. Gutierrez, I see here that you've been having some trouble breathing, is that correct?" She said, looking at a chart. Chris quickly got into character and started breathing heavier.

"Yes, it's been happening for a few days so I figured I should come here and get it checked" he said, resting a hand on top of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

She extended her hand resting two fingers upon his carotid to feel his quickening pulse before moving behind him. "Lift your shirt up, i'm going to listen to your lungs, the stethoscope might be a bit cold" she orders him.

He reaches behind him and pulls the back of his shirt up. He fakes a faint wheeze when asked to breathe deeply, as they had talked prior.

"You have slight abnormalities in your respiratory sounds and your pulse is a bit fast for just resting, I will have to proceed to further investigations." She says, writing in his chart.

"My... chest h-hurts" he chokes, using his abilities he raises his heart rate into tachycardia, up in the high 140's as his chest starts heaving.

"Lay on the bed i need to listen" She quickly says but not before he grabs her palm and presses it to his chest to feel his heart fluttering. After he lays down she takes off his tank top, gaining better access to his heart while also running her hands up and down his body.

"He-help me" Chris pleads, enjoying the feeling of his heart slamming against his sternum, the Molly they took earlier starting to kick in. Max quickly puts her stethoscope against his chest and listens to his heart rate soar over the 150's, his heart thudding almost three times every second. Maxine listens closely, pressing her hand against his chest. Watching as her hand is moving to the rapid staccato of his heart, he throws a skip... a few seconds later another one. The mauve headed doctor is impressed by Chris' control over his heart. They had a safe word if anything went wrong so they knew to stop.

Thud thud thud thud thud-DUN

"Wow..."she whispered unconsciously, which only made Chris more turned on and made his heart gain even more speed. His dick was now almost fully erect, yet they were only at the halfway mark of their scenario. His mind was starting to numb and he basked in the feeling. After she finished listening, she started putting the ekg leads on him. Quickly, the room filled with rapid tempo beeping with the monitor showing irregularities here and there.

"I- I can't breathe" he said, this sentence being a signal for the next part of their scenario. After Chris said the key words, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and he started shaking, no... not shaking, seizing. Maxine pressed a button on the ekg machine and the rhythm changed to a preset one she had set. The ekg line becoming erratic as he keeps seizing.

"I need some help here!" She said to the empty room. Maxine now secretly turned on the defibrillator, as the next step was flatline and fibrillation. What Chris didn't know is that the defibrillator was real and could actually administer shocks. Just as she set the voltage on the defibrillator Chris stopped seizing.

She pressed another button on the ekg that showed Chris was in ventricular fibrillation. "He's fibbing, charge the defibrillator at 150" she said, putting gel on the defib paddles. Not shocking him quite yet, just miming it like they had planned. He pushed his chest up against the paddles and then back down when she pressed them.

"Shit, flatline" she verbalizes, only exciting Chris more, his erection now uncomfortable against his boxers. Maxine placed the stethoscope against his heart, hearing it thrash around his chest. His heart was now visible on the left side of his chest, hard to notice but there. His whole body was throbbing in time with his thrumming pulse.

"Starting compressions" she announces, lightly pressing on his chest, not deep enough to cause true damage like real compressions would, but enough to feel amazing for both him and her, especially him. She could feel his pump battering at her palm. She finished a set of thirty and went to give him rescue breathes which he gladly took but also turned into kissing. Hungry kisses, so hungry.

"I need a better angle" she says seductively. Saying that she moves from his lateral and climbs on the bed, straddles his lap right on top of his metal grade erection and resumes compressions. His body Is burning and his heat is radiant. She finishes the second round of compressions and in between rescue breaths "come on" she pleads.

"Fibrillation again, charge to 200" this time, she presses the button to charge, the defibrillator set at 50 joules, enough to affect him but not kill him.

"CLEAR!" She announces, stops touching him, and shocks him. He shoots up, caught in an adrenaline high, he presses his hand to his heart and laughs.

"WOOO THAT FEELS INCREDIBLE" He shouts. Chris grabs the stethoscope and puts it in his own ears and presses it to his chest. With a mesmerized look, he hands the earpieces to Max. As she puts them in her ears he grabs her hand and puts it on his chest.

"Oh my God... are you okay" she says, almost drooling. She chuckles at the question she just asked, Chris' heart is beating around 200 times every single minute, that's more than 3 times per second. There's moments where he slips into atrial fibrillation and skips back to pulse. As incredible as this sounds to Maxine, the better it feels to Chris.

"Oh... it feels so good" the tanner says, grabbing Maxine and starting a make-our session with her, and Oh was it heated, in mere seconds they were creating friction and were moaning messes. Chris took off the top of Max's scrubs only to find nothing underneath but hot flushed skin. With the steth still on his chest, Maxine moves down from his lips and onto his neck where she sucks and bites like a vampire, leaving marks all over Chris' neck, she especially pays attention to his distended carotid, tracing it with her tongue before attacking it, feeling his pulse incredibly fast against her mouth.

Chris grabbed onto Max's hair and started bucking his hips forward, his body flooding with pleasure. The pain of her teeth, the thudding in his chest, the pressure on his dick. It was driving him feral.

"Your turn now" Chris said.

Shall be continued? Tell me what you guys think because this has been gathering dust in my drafts for almost a year. Also, not proofread so tell me if it's incoherent.

[watercolor-hearts]

Really late from the party plus I can't make a proper collage anymore, but Gax cardiophilia anyone? 💓 Ao3 link.

-

They’re lying in the bed, Max is on his back, George is on his side. The post-sex glow is still there despite them having showered a few minutes ago.

Max closes his eyes and brings his hand up on George’s back, drawing some slow, soothing circles on his skin. They usually don’t talk but let themselves enjoy the silence for a while, it’s not different this time, either.

But then Max feels something on the center of his chest, something soft and gentle; George’s fingertips. They follow each other down his sternum and then go towards his left pectorals like they’re looking for something.

Max smiles and keeps his eyes closed, trying to figure out what’s going on. George sometimes likes to draw shapes on his skin, connecting the moles with imaginary lines like they were constellations.

But this time it’s different as the fingers settle under his left pecs, fingertips pressing into the soft skin outlining the muscles.

“What are you doing?” Max asks curiously as his eyes flutter open, looking at his chest and then at George next to him.

George glances at him, smiling.

“I’m looking for your heartbeat,” he replies, moving his fingertips a few millimeters.

“My heartbeat?” Max asks, genuinely surprised.

“Your heartbeat,” George echoes.

“Why?”

“I just… Wanted to feel it. See how it is when everything’s calm. Because I could feel it when you were getting close to orgasming and it was… It was really powerful. Made me curious about how it is in other situations.”

“Oh,” Max says, taking a few moments to process the fact that George pays attention to things like this during sex. “Have you found it?”

“It should be somewhere around here,” he presses the skin under Max’s left nipple, “But it’s hard to find it now that it’s calm. But I won’t give up, I’ll find it.”

Hearing George’s determination puts a smile on Max’s face. It’s nice that George cares this much.

“What if…” Max moves George’s hand a bit and then presses it down on a spot George hasn’t tried yet, “You try it here?”

“Wha—” George lifts his head to look at Max in awe. He can now feel his heartbeat beneath his hand, calm and regular like he expected it to be. “How?”

A smirk appears on Max’s face, “Secret skill.”

“This makes me wonder what other secret skills you have…”

“I have a few,” Max winks, “But I won’t reveal everything at once.”

“Blimey,” George sighs, laying his head on Max’s chest, “I thought you would.”

“Everything in time, Georgie.”

They lie there for a while, comfortable in each other’s presence, watching as the sun sets and golden light turns into darkness with stars appearing in the sky.

George closes his eyes as he feels the sleepiness overtake but he lets his fingers rest on Max’s heartbeat, Max’s hand on his. It’s nice and warm, a comfortable weight helping him feel the rhythm easier.

When Max brushes George’s now a bit too long hair out of his face and opens his mouth to ask George what he thinks of his heartbeat, Max realizes it’s too late, George has fallen asleep.

He sighs, closes his eyes, and tries to store as much from these moments—George paying attention to his heart during sex and wanting to feel it after, too—in his memory as he can. Maybe if he was braver it could’ve been even more special.

Maybe.

But it’s always easier to think later.

Max takes his hand off George’s and pulls the cover on themselves, trying to let his thoughts go before he starts seeing too much into this thing; George and his heart.

He falls asleep not much later, missing out on the moment when George repositions his head on Max’s chest, not just to feel but also to hear his heartbeat, his newfound source of comfort.

[waywardserpent176389053]

Natsuki's Doki Doki Panic Chapter Two

Here is the second chapter, this time with editing provided by the talented @nursepunkdreams.

Circling Darkness

At first, Natsuki could only feel the throbbing of her heart. It was hummingbird fast, uncountable, and as tentative as the slight beat of their wings.

And it hurt. God, did it hurt. As though someone had sunk several needles into her chest and her heart was being forced to contract around them.

But that wasn’t quite right. Her other senses trickled in one after another. More pain. The soft hiss of compressed air; something strapped to her face, and a scattering of smaller somethings attached to her chest. A shrill, rapid beeping…

She winced. She was in motion, for sure—whoever was driving had hit some rough road. She tensed and tried to focus on something else.

Natsuki finally opened her eyes. She recognized the interior of an ambulance right away and tried to take it all in. An intravenous line snaked into her arm, and a dozen EKG electrodes covered her naked chest. A green mask fitted around her face fogged with her every breath.

Her vision wouldn’t quite focus, no matter how much she willed it to, and her thoughts didn’t fare much better. The whats, the whys, the hows of everything—it all escaped her.

“Hey there.” The paramedic noticed her wandering eyes. He gently touched the side of her face to center her gaze on him. “You just rest, okay? You’ve been through a lot. We’ve got you.”

She wanted to demand some answers, but was distracted by someone touching her shoulder. It looked like…

“It’s okay. I’m here too,” Monika reassured her in a soft tone. She watched worriedly as the other paramedic inched his stethoscope around her chest. “You fainted in the club room… so we’re just going to the hospital for a checkup. That’s all.” She placed her hand in Natsuki’s.

The paramedic let out a short sigh when he finished his examination and replaced the instrument around his neck.

“Still tachy. ETA?” He called out to the front.

“A minute, if that.”

Natsuki allowed herself to take some relief in that. The hospital would fix everything, right?

“Ah—” Her breath caught with a particularly painful spasm of her heart. The patient monitor sounded off with a new alarm as the spasms continued, and her hopes began to wane.

“She’s throwing some strong PVCs,” the paramedic said. He looked concerned scanning the monitor’s readout. “Hanging out around 180—pulse ox is dropping…”

Natsuki didn’t understand what the words meant. She looked to Monika for context and found her looking down at her, tense with worry—even more so than before.

That couldn’t be good.

“We’re here,” Monika gently relayed the information to her with a hand on her face. “I’ll be close by, okay…?”

She barely registered what she had said. There was a bit of jostling, some fussing by some unseen hands and the voices attached to them; the panel lights flashing overhead… but all she could focus on was her heart, beating out of control. It skipped and stuttered along in double-time, threatening to give out…

Then she came to a stop. She thought she glimpsed a sign that said ‘Cardiac Care Unit’, but she didn’t have time to think about it further. Suddenly her body was aloft, and then manhandled into position on a new bed. On every side, people were a blur of activity and an indiscernible torrent of medical jargon she couldn't hope to understand.

“Hi there Natsuki, are you with us?” One of her attendants spoke loudly and clearly, but still with a reassuring lilt. She waved her hand in front of her face. “There you are. You’re at the hospital, okay? Your heartbeat is very irregular, and we need to give it a little jolt to get it back to normal…”

She continued talking, explaining, but the words faded. On her opposite side, another medic was readying a defibrillator. She’d seen them, in movies, of course—but never in real life. The heavy capacitors were placed on her chest: one under her collarbone and the other under her breast. The team stepped back, and the man holding the paddles shot her a sympathetic look.

The shock was sharp and sudden, so much so that she hardly grasped that it had happened at all. She gasped, the trace read flat, and she became hyper aware of her heart. For a second, she was able to trace every part of her rebellious cardiac organ. Every blood vessel, valve, nerve, all of it; as though she could view it in a three-dimension space…

Then the muscle contracted. Once more, blood rushed to the rest of her body. She started to hyperventilate. The sensation—the awareness—was overwhelming. The monitor continued to broadcast a rhythm that was far too rapid.

“No change—still v-tach…”

She braced for the worst. The twin capacitors settled onto her chest once more.

The second shock struck her. The muscles of her back tightened and thrust her body against the defibrillator paddles, as if trying to buck them off. Her heart clenched like a fist, the electricity forcing a contraction. She slumped back onto the bed and her heart relaxed, still for a moment, then one beat… another…

No third beat. Natsuki’s heart, tired from all it had been through, merely twitched and spasmed.

She felt like she was sinking. The action around her grew more frantic—one medic rushed forward to compress her chest, another grabbed a bag-valve mask as her breath fled her lungs in a drawn out wheeze.

Her vision frayed into darkness at its edges. She feared the worst, but…

She could still see.

A medic frantically worked her chest, caving her ribs with every shove. Another tore off her mask and replaced it with the bag valve. She squeezed the bulb fast and steady, raising her chest with each repetition. It brought an ache in her ribs to her attention, and she found herself with the wherewithal to wonder if it was broken. Having barely finished her thought, she also noticed the pain of her ordeal was rapidly subsiding.

This is so embarrassing… Natsuki thought when her head was a little clearer. She hadn’t bared her chest for anyone in recent memory, but now a whole half dozen—or more—got to behold her pathetic body. She could feel her small breasts jiggling with each thrust, and going by what parts of her body felt clothed… she was only wearing her pink panties and white socks.

Natsuki thought she might expire fully right then and there.

She was reminded of the gravity of her situation then. She was fucking dying.

No… no! Not like this! She couldn’t reconcile with it. Her life had been utterly terrible for so long—it was only just getting good. She had a nice place to live! A crush on a cute girl! And she most certainly did not deserve to die from a sudden heart attack. She still needed to graduate, start a bakery… have sex at least once—not put into a casket at the ripe old age of fucking eighteen.

The compressions stopped, and the defibrillator was placed against her once more.

Please work, Natsuki begged. The current rippled through her and arched her back. Her jaw clenched, and for a second, all she saw was light. It rapidly gave way to darkness.

The void lingered just long enough to make her think this might be it. But she realized—she could still think, and then, she heard the noises around her. They were muffled, as though coming from the next room over, but enough for her to cling to for dear life. There was an alarm—shrill, persistent; a backdrop against the desperate voices of the team working her code.

She became aware of the compressions resuming next—suddenly acutely aware of her ribs being forced down; of her sternum pushing into her heart. The weight moved the arrested muscle down, stopped only by her spine; her ribs growing more pliable and fragile by the second. Beneath her chest wall, the organ was squeezed like a rubber ball; the valves within forced open as the blood was ejected. She could feel it—the blood pushed through the hungry arteries… and could discern, somehow, that it wasn’t nearly as effective as her heart beating normally. Between each thrust, her heart would swell as the blood rushed back.

All of this, in less than a second. But time dilated beyond all meaning now. The artificial rhythm continued at pace, and Natsuki felt the cadence with exacting clarity. Her heart continued to twitch. It reminded her of a plate of gelatin being shaken.

It occurred to her then—she hadn’t really considered her cardiac health all that much. Sure, she’d been a bit worried about it recently, but she didn’t think about it as a distinct part of her. She supposed she’d abstracted it somewhat—it having took on the appearance of a classic cartoon heart in her mind's eye, rather than the complicated mass of muscle it actually was.

Natsuki tried to give herself a shake. The present moment was far more pressing than this weird little detour her mind had taken… she needed that heart to beat again.

The compressions let up and air flooded her lungs. She relished the feeling. Breathing was good…

More of that, please…

She was met with more compressions. It would have been a relaxing cycle, if not for the mortal terror of it all.

Attempting to shift her mind elsewhere, she thought of her heart again. She could feel it so clearly, after all… perhaps she could figure out what the hell was wrong with it. She imagined turning it over in her hands, looking for anything amiss.

Her mouth being forced open broke her train of thought.

Oh… that’s kind of unpleasant… she thought dreamily as the endotracheal tube was guided down her throat. She wanted to gag, but didn’t, and when air came again at last, it inflated her lungs even more than before.

Alright, tube… I forgive you, Natsuki thought, still dazed. She allowed herself to luxuriate in the newfound oxygen and expected the cycle to resume, but it didn’t—instead of the hands ramming her heart, she felt two familiar weights against her chest.

Natsuki steeled herself as best she could.

Please, shocky things… please work—

The defibrillation forced her eyes open for a moment. Her heart, as with every shock before, locked up and ceased its twitching. She could see her chest arching against the paddles; the large, ugly bruise that had settled between her breasts; the breathing tube taped in place at her lips, and the many medics desperately trying to save her.

Maybe she was imagining things, but… she thought they didn’t look particularly hopeful. Her organ had stilled. There was an agonal contraction after a long pause, and then it started quivering again.

Natsuki groaned. The shock had hurt like hell. And not only that, but it had failed to revive her. At the very least… the pain was evidence she was still alive. It had to be. She tried to recenter herself, but—

They must have increased the voltage. The electricity snaked through her muscles, pulling each one taut as the current leaped from one paddle to the other. Her spine bowed and her heart seized with the current. She could trace the individual nerves of the organ as they fired all at once, the muscles at their end squeezing with as much strength as they could spare. Then—as before—it relaxed and returned to spasming.

Natsuki was getting a little frustrated now. Weren’t they supposed to call out ‘clear’ or something? A little more warning would be nice…

The compressions returned, and she began to riddle over her fibrillating organ once more. There must be an issue with her nerves—they were still sending out signals, but not the right ones. That must be why her heart was shaking instead of contracting. She traced her own cardiac nerves, trying to find which ones weren’t working, not sure what she would do if she found the right one…

The paddles were placed around her heart again.

Okay… gotta focus, she thought, with newfound determination. When the shock comes, I gotta force that nerve to—

The defibrillation rocked her body. Her heart contracted; its electrical signals scrambled. Natsuki traced the current…

There!

At the top of her heart, there was an entire cluster of nerves firing all at once from the external current. One of those nerves stood out to her, and even though she couldn’t tell how… she knew that was the one.

The charge dissipated, and her heart fell still. It stayed still.

The sinking feeling from earlier came back tenfold and Natsuki fought hard to keep her head above water. She was suddenly so cold, and the sounds from outside grew ever indistinct. She could only just barely make out the team’s voices…

“Asystole…!” One attendant shouted.

“Losing her!” She heard another cry.

The sensation of the chest compressions returned to her, but numb and distant.

Her life flashed before her eyes. Memories from the early days, when her mom was still around… those fleeting peaceful moment between the shouting matches and slamming doors. She hadn’t taken Natsuki with her, when she left—and she’d always blamed herself for that.

She was a pitiful child, after all. There were the years where she barely had any friends—thin and destitute, scrounging around for whatever food that man left for her—never enough to fill her. She was reminded of learning to bake, so she wouldn’t starve over summer break, and the comics she gorged herself on to give her any sense of hope.

More recent images flashed before her. Like joining the Literature Club and meeting all of her new friends.

That man being arrested, freeing her at last.

Planning for college. Baking new things—not for survival, but for fun.

All of it so recent. And so, so short.

Natsuki suddenly saw that all she would amount to would be a girl who never got the chance to really live—who got only the smallest taste of a good life before it was cruelly snatched away.

The darkness boiled around her; the cold threatening to consume her.

No!

She was not going to die!

Natsuki desperately thrashed against the death that surrounded her. She could still feel her body—the chest compressions, the air pumped to her lungs; the faint sounds of the efforts to revive her. She pushed upward, as if swimming towards the surface of an endless lake.

Natsuki had spent years reading manga. She tended toward slice of life and comedy—stories of girls just hanging out and having a good time, but she had read a bit of everything. Horror, romance, erotica, dramas, sometimes even action/adventure, if she was feeling a bit bored of her usual fare.

She envisioned herself as the protagonists of one of these adventures. Downtrodden, bloody—but standing up and defying the odds nonetheless. The second wind was coming.

She was going to survive this.

In her mind’s eye, she wrestled with her heart; begged it function. She pleaded and coaxed, and then, she was overwhelmed by an awful, acidic burning sensation in her veins. It moved closer to her heart with each press on her sternum, and she felt sick about it, but she knew it was likely the doctors still trying to save her and tolerated it as best she could.

The drugs soon arrived at her cardiac center. Nerves, once quiet, began to fire again. Slowly at first, then swiftly gaining speed—before long, the muscles attached returned to their unconditioned shaking.

Yes! Natsuki reveled in her triumph, even though it was largely the drugs that had done the heavy lifting.

Come on! Hit me again, shocky things!

As though the team could hear her, the weights of the paddles were promptly settled onto her chest again. Natsuki readied herself, but her timing was off. The fibrillation continued, and she prepared for the next jolt.

Three, two, one…

Another current rolled through her and she rode along it, pouring every ounce of her will into forcing her heart to beat once more. The cardiac muscles tightened, then relaxed, then remained still.

The darkness swirled around her. Natsuki clung to the light.

That was supposed to work, damn it!

Time was dilating again, and the creeping coldness settling in was fogging her mind. The distance between the compressions and voices stretched on further and further, as though she were adrift at sea, being pulled further and further away by the unforgiving yet undeniably gentle tide…

She felt more acidic drugs pouring into her veins and thought—for a scant moment—that her heart would react and start spasming again. But the organ did not respond. The voices of the medics cut in and out, hazy; painfully indistinct. Despite her senses failing, she still picked up the droning cry of the monitor, a flatline certainly running across it. In her altered state, it signaled to her that there was some great, terrible predator stalking around her, waiting to take her into dissolution.

My name… she thought desperately. It’s… my name is Natsuki. I like good manga, cute things… and baking! She tightened her focus. And… I love my friends, Monika, Sayori, and Yuri. God, Yuri… if I live for anyone, it’ll be for you!

She held onto this thought loop for dear life. A shield against the tide, against the cold, against the predator stalking near… if she could just hold onto herself… her friends…

Something changed. It was hard for her to focus on other things, but this was different. The compressions had stopped, but her heart wasn’t twitching. The asystole alarm continued, although distorted, as if she was hearing it underwater.

Oh… they gave up… she thought, despondent.

After all that, despite everything, her time was up.

The immense void moved in.

Yuri…!

She was numb, completely and utterly, but… there was no doubting it. She was being cut open. She struggled to remember why that might be happening.

Was she… dead? Was this a morgue; an autopsy? Something cold forced her ribs apart, snapping them like twigs.

That hurt. That hurt!

She remembered the names of her beloved friends and focused on the pain.

If I can still feel pain… then I must be… still alive…

Something new invaded her chest. They wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Hands, maybe. Blood shot through her arteries.

Natsuki rallied.

They haven’t given up! They’re still trying!

Her mind was scattered, but she tried to focus. She centered her attention on her stubborn heart.

Come on… work! Do something!

More drugs. It all felt so terrible, but she grit her teeth and didn’t dare break her focus.

A flutter. Then another, then her whole heart was thick with fibrillation once more. She could feel it so clearly; it was injured, weakened from its ordeal. The repeated shocks, the drugs, the lack of oxygen… and something deeper.

Some small thing that had always been there.

Natsuki lacked the vocabulary for it, but she knew, more than anything, it was the root cause. It wasn’t her nerves misfiring for seemingly no reason—it was this. This little thing she didn’t have a name for.

This flaw.

Small metal discs were placed against her heart.

Mini shocky things… she thought hazily. She knew she didn’t have much fight left. The creature stalked, just outside her perception, she knew—waiting for her to slip up.

Wait for the right—

Her heart was the sun as the charge smashed into it. Even though the capacitors were smaller, it was many, many times more intense.

Natsuki shook it off and readied herself. Her heart continued to shake meaninglessly.

Heh… rule of threes, she thought wryly. It’s now or never…!

The third hit. As her nerves sparked and fired; as the cardiac muscles clinched; as blood sloshed forward from the artificial beat—Natsuki took hold of one thought and bent all her will towards its success. She screamed it, howled it, bellowed it:

BEAT!!!

The heart relaxed as the charge dissipated. It was still.

Then, a nerve fired. Others followed. The muscle contracted—dared to contract.

And again. Then it stumbled, but caught itself.

Ba-dup… ba-dup… ba-dup…

If she could, Natsuki would have collapsed out of sheer relief.

She’d lived. She’d fucking lived.

She knew that her heart was still in poor shape; that she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. But that didn’t matter.

For now, she was alive. The rest could come later.

A new darkness rose around her, a friendlier one—a blanket of simple unconsciousness. She took the offer; she was exhausted in her bones. Her friends' faces rushed past her; she’d kept them. Held on so tight. Let them guide her back to the world of the living.

“I’ll see you soon, okay…?” she murmured, too quiet and indistinct for anyone to hear.

Her heart continued to beat. It was battered… and Natsuki knew, deep down, than it wouldn’t last much longer in the grand scheme of things. But for now, it would fulfill its function. Softly, as if exhausted itself, it beat.

And Natsuki lived.

[beatinginavoid]

From the Deep

Every part of this room was custom built for one purpose. It was a purpose that many had believed would go unfulfilled. Yet here and now, the room was in use. The lights were dim, and reflected lights danced over the ceiling and some of the walls in mesmerising patterns, dancing and flickering endlessly.

The alluring light dance came from the ripples of the water that filled a massive tank. It took up the full length of one wall, a good thirty feet minimum. It was not quite fifteen feet tall, and contained no foliage or ornamentation, empty but for the water and one other thing.

A figure glided through the water. Sleek and swift, every motion it made caused more ripples on the surface.

The upper half of the figure resembled a young male human, while the lower half was that of a scaly tail with fins. A merman. A legend proven real.

He was a sight to behold.

He had been caught on the edges of the deep sea and seemed to live there. His body certainly suited that mostly unexplored area of the ocean, and what an intriguing body it was.

The merman’s entire body, from his short, wispy hair, to the very tips of his tail fin, was completely transparent. No muscles were visible, nor was there much of a skeletal figure to be seen beyond sharp teeth and a spine. Interestingly enough, no blood vessels could be seen, but every single internal organ, including the muscle that served as the heart, was completely on display.

Multiple cameras were focused on the tank, recording every movement, internal and external. This was groundbreaking new territory, history being made, and no one wanted to mess it up or miss a thing.

They only had one merman so they had to be incredibly careful.

There were thin, barely visible lines following the curves of what you assume are the ribs. The gills? The lungs resembled biology closer to a stingray or a shark, leaving more immediate space around the heart unlike a human, whose left lung hugged the muscle and partially hid it from sight. This was incredibly helpful for an unobstructed view of the epicentre of the cardiovascular system, especially for the excited medical staff that had access to this magnificent specimen.

Standing in front of the tank, the merman’s interest is caught right away and he lunges toward you. He smacks heavily into the glass, his shiny black eyes observing you unblinkingly, his head tilted in confusion as his hands lay flat against the tank wall. He floats to a stop upright, mimicking your posture.

The atria squeeze and his heart swells minutely before the ventricles twist a little and contract. The process repeats again and again, the pumping action fast and relentless. Throbthrobthrobthrobthrob. It’s so hard to look elsewhere because the motion is so hypnotic.

His heart appears to resemble a human’s so much, you can’t help but wonder if it sounds similar as well. A stethoscope was not an option, but there had to be a way.

Time slips by and you notice the rapid pace of his heart has slowed down significantly. Throb…throb…throb…throb…throb. You feel as if your own heart is trying to match it. Does his pulsing organ feel stronger than your own nestled in your chest?

Throb…throb…throb…throb-ob…throb…throb…

Was that a skip? Fascinating to witness!

Was it normal? Harmless? Indicative of a problem?

You scurry off to find help with your stethoscope problem, returning an hour later with a special microphone designed for underwater use. Such devices are used to record the sounds of dolphins and whales, and you hope it will be enough to pick up the merman’s heartbeat, especially if it ends up against his chest.

There’s a metal staircase at the far end of the tank and you ascend it. Leaning over and holding the microphone, the cord wrapped around a pole, above the water carefully, you lower it bit by bit. The microphone is attached to a box with a waveform metre and a speaker. It crackles and gurgles in a muted manner while it moves, the sound loudly reverberating around the mostly empty room.

You wedge the pole into place and resume your former spot before the tank. The microphone dangles in the water just above your eye line and your gaze quickly hones back in on the merman’s chest. The organic pump was still dutifully performing its sacred role, filling with blood and ejecting it to circulate around the rest of his body.

The mer himself gives you a cursory glance before hesitantly reaching out to the invader in his space. Fingers tipped with claws poke at it. Thuds ring out from the speaker and you smile.

He drifts closer to it, his face getting quite close. Fangs flash and the microphone screeches and groans as it is bitten. The mer lets it go quickly, jaw working open and closed a few times. It seems the taste, and maybe the texture, is not to his liking. A see-through hand grasps the microphone with surprising gentleness, creating a ruckus of awful, distorted noise.

Dexterous looking fingers inch their way up the microphone. A slender wrist follows, then a forearm and elbow. He continues to cautiously follow the cord higher and higher, and you bounce on your heels in eager anticipation as his chest finally draws level with the microphone.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

There it is. What you’ve been waiting for.

The rhythm, the rate, the snap of valves, the distinct S1 and S2 sounds that make up the oh so familiar lub-dub. There is no way you would ever be able to distinguish this from a human’s regular heart sounds. This could be a major evolutionary find!

The merman freezes in place, his head tilting around. There were no visible ears but he was clearly listening to something. Could he hear the speaker projecting his sounds of life? After a few seconds he sucks in a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, and lets it out.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

His eyes are wide and he seemed as enthralled by the sound as you are. Several beats had visibly and audibly skipped and it had been an amazingly delightful experience for you. The acceleration and deceleration of that pulsing muscle was something that could keep your attention for hours.

Or until the call of nature became too much to ignore.

Your hand presses against your chest, your own heart meeting it with faint pushes as if determined to be a part of things.

Throbthrobthrobthrobthrobthrobthrob-

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

The fast pace of your heart feels weird as the merman’s restful beats fill the room. The two disparate rhythms seem to work together against all odds.

Human and mer stay in place, living in the moment.

-----

My first proper post on here and my first ever piece of cardiophile writing! 🫀🫀🫀 I hope you like it! I may make this mer an OC and play with him more...

pssst: will trade writing for art/anims

[roxiewyatthb]

Your Property

Synopsis: A cardiophile reaching into another cardiophiles chest, controlling their heart (in a way that powers allow you) as requested by @maddieheart wc:577 cw: heart squeezing, irregular heartbeat, heart vocabulary, teasing

"Can I use it on you again?" They spoke up, voice quiet but stern.

Their partner stood silent for a brief moment, knowing exactly what they meant by "it". The night was quiet and relaxing, something they both enjoyed after a hectic day, but it seems that would be interrupted now -- not that either of them would ever decline -- it was just unexpected tonight.

Their heart started beat faster at the thought of them doing it once again. It was always thrilling. They loved it.

"As if I would tell you 'no'." They chuckled, adjusting their position from laying on the bed to now sitting up against the bed frame, "I'm all yours." Those words escaped breathlessly.

With haste, they scooted over to their partner -- waiting for them against the frame with their chest exposed -- completely ready for what they wanted to do.

"Okay..." Their voice trailed off while they reached forward to drag their hand across their partners bare chest, palming along the skin, feeling their heart pound underneath, "You know what to do."

With that cue, their partner took a deep breath in.

And slowly released it.

As they breathed out, a light colored aura coated their hand and was now slowly reaching into the chest of their partner. With each passing second they got closer to their heart.

"You're doing great...just a little more." They reassured them, now millimeters away from the muscle that pulsed life into their partner, and in less than a second they would make contact.

Cold fingers wrapped around their heart, causing it to skip a beat and flutter at the sudden contact, and also causing them to laugh at how their partners heart reacted.

"It always flinches when I touch it. It's so cute."

They only respond with a nervous laugh -- even with the amount of trust they have for one another it's always nerve-wracking to have someone physically touch your heart.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I always am," They lightly squeeze their heart, forcing it to stutter even more, "Aren't I?"

Their partner tried to stifle a pleased noise, biting down on their lower lip to prevent anything from leaving their throat.

They laugh again at this gesture, smiling sweetly at them while rubbing a soft thumb against their right ventricle, enjoying the feeling of their heart now racing in their hand.

Faster.

They grip it a little harder -- a little rougher -- enough to make it pause and pick up once again but at an even faster pace.

So fast.

Stumbling.

A few beats pass before they decide to move again, this time they'd try something completely new -- using both hands.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Their partner asked, voice wavering at the sight of their other hand now reaching into their chest.

"I want to feel all of you..."

Two hands wrapped around their heart now.

The first one stood in it's original place while the other reached further up to carefully squeeze their fingers in between their superior vena cava, aorta, and pulmonary artery.

This new feeling is exhilarating. It felt so much different than just wrapping their fingers around their ventricles. It was so much more...intimate?

They felt each beat -- each passing of blood -- between their fingers.

Contracting and briefly hugging each finger in unison.

The only thing that would top this right now would be seeing their heart in front of them, beating away.

That would be an ability they'll strive to learn next.

[ay-heart-collection]

Story writing: The Assassin Lesson

Greetings everyone. I am trying to get back some story ideas of heart back in my mind with AI support.

I understand that many people feel resistant to AI currently, but I think it could be a chance for some of my buried ideas digging back to light. I think it should be OK for make use of it for drafting and brainstorming. Wish you will accept it and like it.

-------------------------------------------------------

The Assassin Lesson

In a training site of an assassin group, the mentor lady of the group stood before her class of aspiring young assassins. The leather suit covered by hooded cloak outlined her beautiful body curves. Her piercing gaze surveyed the room, which cause the atmosphere become thick and heavy, but brought a hint of anticipation to the class.

As one of the master of assassin in the group, the lesson of the mentor lady was focusing on the fatal spots of the human body. Before she began her lesson, she brought a beautiful female with a slender figure to her students. She was a young thief captured in an incidental encounter during a mission. Her upper body had been stripped naked, with her wrists bound with tight restraints, stood at the front of the class. Her eyes wide with fear.

"Today, we shall delve into the skill of piercing the human heart."

The mentor lady began, her low and commanding tone sending shivers down the spines of her students. With a swift motion, she spread out a drawing of a human heart, its delicate form sketched meticulously on a piece of parchment.

Walking towards the captive, the mentor caressed the girl carefully, and made use of some simple drawing tool against her bare chest. Soon, a line art appeared between her petite but firm breasts, aligning it with the actual size and position of her ribcage and her heart beneath. The students leaned forward, their eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before them.

"Now, observe," the mentor said, her voice unwavering.

"The human heart was protected beneath the ribcage, nestled within the chest cavity. To truly strike a fatal blow, one must understand its position and structure."

She pointed to the various parts of the heart drawing on the captive, her finger tracing the major arteries and ventricles. The young thief’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath shallow and uneven. Which felt like the mentor’s finger directly touching her myocardium.

"The atria, the ventricles, the aorta," the mentor continued, her voice filled with an unsettling mix of knowledge and detached fascination. "Each component is vital to the heart's function, and each represents a potential fatal spot."

The young thief visibly trembled, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that was not forthcoming.

"One wrong move, and the heart's delicate rhythm is disrupted," the mentor said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "A swift and precise strike, however, can send the body into an irreversible state of shock."

At this point, the mentor paused, allowing her words to hang in the air, the weight of her lesson sinking in. The students exchanged glances, fully aware of the power they were being entrusted with.

"Now, my dear students," the mentor said, her voice rising with an unsettling intensity, "let me introduce the tools we mainly use for piercing the heart.”

The mentor's eyes gleamed with an aggressive pleasure as she revealed an array of common weapons used on the table with a quick motion. As she began explaining each weapon in meticulous detail, the captured girl's terror was palpable, her eyes widening in fear as she gazed upon the deadly tools before her. Feeling as if these sharp edges had already torn her horrified heart.

"First, we have the thin, needle-like stiletto blade," the mentor said, her voice dripping with a chilling enthusiasm. "Its slender form allows for precise entry, slipping between the ribs without causing unnecessary damage."

As she spoke, the mentor demonstrated the correct posture for piercing, gently pressing the stiletto against the girl's exposed skin, mirroring the intended action. The girl's heart beat erratically, a visible thumping against her left breast. She shivered, her body tensing involuntarily at the sensation, a cold sweat forming on her forehead.

"Next, we have the wickedly serrated dagger," the mentor continued, her voice filled with a sinister delight. "Its jagged edges can tear through flesh and bone, ensuring a quick and devastating stab."

With a swift motion, the mentor mimicked the piercing action on the girl's skin, her hand moving in a delicate manner. The young thief let out a stifled gasp, her heart pounding even harder in her chest, as if resisting the impending violence. Beads of crimson blood welled up where the blade had made contact, as a testament to the sharpness of the weapon and the fragility of human flesh.

The mentor's eyes narrowed, relishing in the power that played out before her. She continued her lesson, each weapon explained and demonstrated with excellent precision.

"Now, behold the slender yet deadly rapier," the mentor said, her voice taking on a haunting resonance. "Its long, piercing blade can navigate the narrowest of spaces, reaching the heart with deadly accuracy."

The mentor positioned the rapier against the girl's skin, her hand poised to demonstrate the thrusting motion. The captive's breathing grew shallow, her body trembling uncontrollably under the weight of her fear. As the mentor made a swift but soft thrust, the young heart skipped a beat, as if mirroring the terror coursing through her veins.

As the mentor moved through the remaining weapons, the captured girl's terror only intensified. The mentor's explanations were accompanied by demonstrations on the girl's soft skin, each movement were calculated and precise. The pain and fear etched on the captive's face mirrored the darkness hidden within the mentor's own soul.

"In the next section," the mentor lady paused a second, staring at the captive. "We are to demonstrate the precise locations where the weapons should enter the body, piercing the heart." The terrified thief stood frozen, her eyes wide with fear, as the mentor approached her with a gaze of dominance.

"Pay close attention, my dear students," the mentor commanded, her voice laced with an eerie calmness. "As we delved before, the human heart was well protected within the chest cavity. To penetrate the heart efficiently, we must aim for specific entry points. Allow me to explain."

The mentor positioned herself behind the captive, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, as if guiding her through the macabre lesson. The captive's body trembled beneath the mentor's touch, her breath was quick and shallow.

"First," the mentor began, her voice resonating with authority, "We have the area between the 3rd and 4th rib, near the sternum. This position allows for a quick and efficient stab, aiming directly at the center of the heart's chambers."

With precise movements, the mentor's hand mimicked the action of a weapon, her fingers hovering just above the inner side of the captive's left breast, indicating the location. The captive flinched, a shiver coursing through her body, as if she could feel the cold steel of an imaginary blade piercing her flesh.

"Next," the mentor continued, her voice low and steady, "we have the space between the 4th and 5th rib, commonly known as the apex of the heart. Representing the tip of the left and right ventricles. Striking here can disrupt the heart's rhythm and lead to swift incapacitation," the mentor paused a bit, "And this is actually my favorite piercing spot."

The mentor's hand shifted slightly lower, held tightly under the left breast of the young thief. Her heart raced in response, the rumbling apex hammering against the palm of the mentor. She bit her trembling lip, her eyes darting nervously between the assassin students and the weapons displayed on the table.

"Moving on," the mentor said, her tone filled with a chilling precision, "we have the area below the xiphoid, right below the heart. Here is the blind spot of the ribcage coverage. A well-placed strike here can cause severe damage from the bottom of right ventricle."

The mentor's hand descended further, hovering just above the captive's abdomen, her fingers poised as if preparing to strike. The captive's breath hitched, her body tensing as if bracing for impact. The room seemed to grow colder as she saw the focused eyes of the assassin students.

"And finally," the mentor concluded, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "We have the area over the clavicle. This position allows us to bypass most of the chest armor and ribcage, to penetrate the atria and aorta directly, provided the weapon is long enough."

The mentor's hand moved to the captive's collarbone area, caressed the pulsating veins underneath. The captive's eyes widened, a mix of terror and realization reflecting in their depths. The mentor's teachings had painted a dark path ahead, one that demanded a cold and calculated approach for her fellows students.

"And NEXT..." the mentor scanned the room, her eyes flickering with amusement.

"Is the time for PRACTICE."

Hearing this, the captured girl’s heart sank to the bottom of abyss. She knew that her doom was imminent. Her heart raced uncontrollably, pounding against her chest as if desperately trying to escape its impending fate.

The mentor asked her students if any of them would like to recommend themselves for the upcoming practice session. Excitement filled the air as most of the girls eagerly raised their hands, their faces lit up with anticipation.

With a sinister smile, the mentor selected a student from the eager faces. The chosen student stepped forward, took down her hood, her eyes shined with expectations and determination. The mentor allowed the student to have her pick of weapon and piercing spot, relishing in the power dynamics that played out before her.

The student's gaze lingered over the arsenal of deadly tools, selecting a weapon with a menacing aura. She ran her fingers along the blade, savoring the anticipation that filled the room. With a wicked grin, she turned to face the captive girl, her voice dripping with delight.

"I choose the serrated dagger," the student declared, her voice tinged with a chilling excitement. "And I want to strike at the apex of her heart, just like the mentor I admire."

The captive girl's eyes widened in terror, her breath catching in her throat. The mentor's own smile widened, seeing the fear etched across the captive's face. She nodded approvingly, allowing the student to proceed with her choice.

The student approached the captive girl, her movements deliberate and calculated. The air grew heavy with tension as the serrated dagger glinted ominously in her hand. The captive girl's heart was beating in an insane rhythm, facing the incoming intent to kill with full of fear and despair.

As the student positioned herself, the mentor watched intently. Her eyes glimmering with a twisted joyous. The student's hand trembled with anticipation, staring at the throbbing point below the left breast of the shivering young thief. Her blade poised to strike. The captive girl's body tensed, her eyes locked on the weapon that would soon pierce her vulnerable flesh.

"Don’t blame me." whispered by the young assassin.

In one swift and merciless motion, the student thrust the serrated dagger right between the 4th and 5th rib, torn the captive girl's heart from the apex. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the sound of the blade piercing flesh echoing through the air.

The captive girl let out a choked gasp, her eyes widened with agony. Her body kneeled down, convulsing with the searing pain that seeped through her being.

"Come, my dear," the mentor held up the young thief, and let the outstanding student to listen to her last heaving chest. "Remember this faltering heart sound, representing our power, and the fragile of life." Her desperate heartbeat, staggered with the spurting sound of blood, echoed in the mind of the student.

Her heart, the very core of her existence, reacted with a final surge of desperation. It beat wildly, as if fighting against the intrusion, a futile attempt to cling to life. But the cruel reality of the situation prevailed, and with each weakening beat, the girl's life force slipped away.

The mentor watched with a twisted satisfaction as the young thief's body slumped, lifeless and still. The room fell into an eerie silence. The mentor's eyes gleamed with a sense of accomplishment, reveling in the darkness that had unraveled within her students.

"Observe, my dear fellow students," wiped the stains on her student’s cheek, she declare to everyone with determination. "This is what we have, the power deciding life and death. But remember, the fleeting nature of life binds us all. We have to be skilled to avoid becoming the next fallen heart."

The End

[destroymeinherz]

The Party

A little while back someone posted about a fantasy of being passed around a stethoscope party, with different people listening to their heart. I don’t remember who did so if it was you, I hope you like this. It sparked creativity,

I could continue if anyone wants another part. But I wanted to do the basic idea.

The Party

I’d just signed with a modeling agency. It wasn’t the most exclusive, sometimes the jobs weren’t exactly what I hoped but college was expensive, so I took what I could. How bad could it be? It’s not like I planned to run for office or something.

My agent called me after classes one afternoon asking if I’d be interested in a gig that was more unconventional. After a few basic questions for my safety, nothing seemed too offensive even if it was secretive, and a rep from the agency would be there in case of trouble, I decided to take it.

Friday night I arrived at a big mansion just outside the city. From the looks of it this was old money, probably descendants of oil barons and railway tycoons. Which meant the paycheck would be huge. They’d promised a large payout for anyone who stayed til midnight.

I was let into a large foyer and usher back to a small hallway to a butlers parlor. A woman checked my ID, checked my name off a list and then looked me over.

“You will be required to wear one of two outfits tonight,” She instructed, pulling two hangers off a rack of clothes. “Black is standard, you are willing to do anything that would be clothes on. Call it PG-13.”

She held up a black Herve Luger bandage dress for emphasis. Then in her other hand, she held up a red one nearly identical to the former.

“Red,” She continued. “You are open to sexual behavior, and by wearing red you are giving consent to sexual advance,”

Well, I was single and I was never a prude, so I took the red. Might as well have a bit of fun. Once I accepted my color choice, she handed me an iPad with a waiver basically stating that I would take proper precautions, assert myself and under no circumstances attempt to contact anyone I met here after the event. I would ask for aid if I felt unsafe and leave without a scene. If I did not make it to midnight, I’d be compensated $200 per hour worked.

I shrugged and signed. She then held back a curtain for me to change in a small closet. I slipped inside, squeezed into the dress and as I was ushered to a door she fit me with a bracelet.

“If you need out, press the red button. Security will extract you.” She informed. “Are you ready?”

I blinked. Extracted? My heart started to pound, suddenly feeling crushed by the tight dress. What did I get myself into. But… the money was clouding my judgement. So I nodded, and the door opened. Once I cleared the threshold, it closed behind me.

Just walk around. Be eye candy. That was my only instruction. So that is what I did.

The room was a parlor, antique and dimly lit. It was full of golds and deep rich red textiles, dark wood and gold finishes. Old leather bound editions of classic literature adorned the bookshelves. I felt like I’d gone back in time. Or I was in a vampire’s house. My heart thudded at the thought.

The room was also full of people, in fine clothes, expensive tuxes and dresses. All of them wore masks like a masquerade. As I started to work through the crowd they watched me, with hungry eyes. Maybe I was in a vampire’s den. I was about to be dinner. There were a few other girls dressed in the red or black, varying heights and hair colors and skin tones.

I swallowed and tried to will my poor heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Until finally, a man approached me.

“Well, aren’t you lovely,” He said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and he brought it to his lips. He then moved his fingers down my wrist, stopping to feel my pulse. He offered him a soft smile. Then, he nodded before he motioned a waiter over.

The waiter came with a silver cloche, removing the dome top and extending the tray to the man. But there wasn’t food. It was a line of various stethoscopes. His fingers danced along them as he made his selection, a red tube that matched my dress.

He waved the man off, then examined it before placing the buds in his ears.

“Now, deep breath for me. Like a doctor’s office.” He said as he placed the diaphragm on my chest,

I was surprised, but I did as he asked, breathing in deeply and feeling my heart kick in my chest. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

He must have enjoyed the sound of my heart because he moved the diaphragm around my chest, smiling to himself and eventually he stopped. He listened for a long time, and even behind a mask I could see his eyes were closed.

I blushed. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved the diaphragm away. He took the ear pieces out and looked around. Then he must have seen who he needed, because he waved to someone.

“You have a perfect heart, my dear.” He said.

“Uh, thanks…” I replied.

Another man approached, he also had a stethoscope. He looked to the first man oblivious to me and waited for why he’d been called over.

“I think she’s the one. Take a listen.”

The new man finally looked at me. I smiled at him but he simply leaned in with his own stethoscope and listened to my heart. I took a deep breath like I had before.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

“I think you’re right,” He replied. “Take her in, I’ll grab the others.”

The others? I blinked in surprise. Is this all it was? A bunch of cosplayers listening to my heart for a few hours? That didn’t seem so bad. Even if they wanted to listen to it during sex or something. That was actually, kinda hot.

“Come with me,” The first man said.

I nodded as he took my hand again. This time he lead me down another hallway to a different room. He opened the door and brought me in, then closed it behind me. It was more of a sitting room with a beautiful chaise in the center, raised up on a platform.

I recognized some medical equipment from various movies or doctors visits. Nothing seemed too concerning.

“Now, lay down on the chaise,” He instructed. “You may stay clothed for now. But do remove your shoes as to not damage the upholstery.”

I did as he asked. Once I was settled, he returned to my side. He brought the steth out again and gently placed it on my chest. He let out a content sigh as he listened to my heart pound.

As he listened, others started to fill the room. They lined up behind him. I had never expected anything like this. Just lay here and let them hear my heart beat.

“Before we continue, could I get you anything? Water, soda, wine?”

I smiled. “What would you like me to have?”

“Oh you are cheeky.” He grinned. “Perhaps a little caffeine, to stimulate you. What does everyone think?”

There was a nod of agreement from the group and some muttering of approval. The first man smiled and had one of the caterers being me a soda can on a platter with a straw beside it.

“Go ahead and open it, then use the straw to limit your movement to drink.” He instructed.

I did as he asked. Once the can was open and the straw was in, in leaned over to the table where it sat and drank a few gulps. As I did, the man placed the diaphragm on my chest again.

He closed his eyes, listening and seemingly very content with the sound. Finally he opened them, took my hand and kissed the back of it. He stepped aside and the next person in line stepped up.

There was no clock in the room but it felt like time slowed in this room. Each person took their turn stepping up to my seat and just listening to my heartbeat. Some had me drink the soda, some had me lay down, some had me sit and stand quickly. I’d stand there and pant through running in place and jumping jacks in a too tight dress, as they listened to my heart’s reaction and then recovery.

Ba-dumpba-dumpba-dumpba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I had to admit, this was fun.

The last person was a woman, she couldn’t have been much older than me. She seemed more keen then the men had. Her eyes were bright behind her mask. She took a deep breath as her gold and white stethoscope settled on my chest.

“My… your heart… it’s by far one of the loveliest I’ve heard.” She said to me, her voice was lustful. “May I rest my head on your chest? Hear it directly with my ear?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Would you like to hear your heart while I do?” She removed the stethoscope and offered it.

The people in the room all watched, eager to see how I would respond. Well, why not? If it made them happy it was my job tonight. I don’t think I’d ever heard my heartbeat before, not like this anyway.

“Okay. Sure” I replied with a smile.

That was the right answer as she grinned with excitement and placed the ear pieces in my ears. Then she placed the diaphragm down on my skin and rested her ear next to it.

I inhaled as I had before and my head filled with the rhythmic thumping they’d all been indulging in for the last few hours.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I closed my own eyes and lost myself in the sound. Maybe I should come to these parties more often. Hearing the steady beat, knowing it was mine… that was intoxicating.

“Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah. I think I get the vibe.” I responded.

“Are you ready to try something a little more interesting?” The first man asked, approaching me slowly. “You can refuse any of the requests, we won’t take offense or change your compensation. These would be granting special requests.”

The stethoscope was removed from my ears and I almost whined about it. I liked hearing my heart, understanding what they were hearing. What they enjoyed that brought me here.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

End?

[risherrd]

[severedfromthesource]

Heart of the Forge

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3

Original concept by @emptycalories-splitlip Something is slipped into Adam’s medication, Tav races to stabilize him. This part features M resus, M rescuer, EKG, seizures, conscious mouth to mouth, conscious defibrillation.

It was evening when Gustav returned for the daily round of meds. A Fetcher he didn’t recognize followed closely on his heels. He didn’t recognize them most of the time, they aged out into more useful jobs or simply no longer found the work of caring for the Forge all that appealing. This boy was a bit older than the usual lot. Most found more permanent positions on the Pennydurren by the time they were fourteen, and this kid was sixteen at least, with the acne and peach fuzz to prove it. Still, Gustav was hardly one to judge a late bloomer. He hadn’t grown his last few inches or facial hair until he was almost nineteen. He pushed aside his questions as they walked past engineering side by side.

“Enjoy being a Fetch,” he sighed, plumes of soft grey smoke spilling from his nose. “You’ll miss it when they place you somewhere permanent.” “Imagine I will, sir,” said the boy, staring down at the tray of colorless paste, the cup of little pills, and the small vial sat beside it. He hadn’t looked up yet. Tav watched his throat work for the tenth time and arched a brow. “You alright?” “Heat’s just getting to me, sir." "Ah. You're from the lower cars, then. This place is a sauna compared to the cold back there.” He rolled his shoulders, dislodging a bit of sweat on his collar to let it roll down between his shoulder blades.

The kid tried very hard not to shake perceptibly.

As they entered the engine room, Gustav once more snubbed out his cigarette on the wall. “Where do sheep spend their vacations?" he called out, voice echoing on the metal walls of the chamber. Adam grinned, setting down his book and rising to greet him. "I don't know, where?" He slid his hands in his pockets and replied, rolling from his heels to the tips of his toes and back as he inflected, "The Baaaahamas." That won a genuine laugh from the Forge and he crossed to the two of them, taking his place at the angular throne in the center of the room. The cables protruding from his back looped into the divots carved into the back of the chair and Tav rolled a tray table in front of him. The Fetcher placed the tray of food and medication down and took a step back like it was poised to bite him.

Tav gave him a glass of water and gave a cursory look over of the various pills, noting the stamps of authenticity on gel caps and tablets. Satisfied, he handed them off, and Adam chucked back the small cup of pills into the back of his throat. Once he'd washed them down, he tilted his head, opening his mouth for the Keeper to inspect his tongue. He took him by the chin, turning his face from side to side to check his cheeks and said simply, "Up." to get him to lift his tongue. Once he was sure he wasn't cheeking any of it, he patted the Forge on the side of his face.

Adam wasted no time, hunkering over his flavorless meal with a spoon. "You're a new face," he pointed out conversationally, gesturing with his silverware. "Always a new Fetch pattering around the halls," sighed Tav, retrieving his stethoscope for a quick listen, which Adam was kind enough to stop wolfing down his dinner and allow him. His heart pounded, strong as ever, the chambers moving in a shadowplay behind his sternum. The kid watched this all, trying to force his breathing and heart to slow. "He looks a little pale," said Adam. "He's from the lower cars. Probably the first time he's had any kind of heat in his bones, I'd be shivering too," Tav replied.

The Fetcher thought he might be sick. He watched the Forge scoop another shovelful of mush and stuck it in his mouth, smiling at him around the spoon. He knew, staring into that kind face and those warm brown eyes, that he had made a terrible, irrevocable mistake. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking. The Keeper perked at that and rounded on him. "What was that?" His knees were shaking wads of gelatin as he turned and fled the chamber.

Tav's stomach turned to lead. "What the-" He took a few hesitant steps towards him, unsure what was happening, only knowing that it filled him with an unknowing dread. His eyes went from the boy's retreating back, shoving at the button to open the glass door and stumbling through, back to Adam. His gaze snagged on the empty cup as terrible realization dawned on him. He seemed to understand at the same moment, staring wide eyed at the cup and back up at Tav. Something had been tampered with.

"Do they not vet these fucking Fetches anymore?" he spat as he turned on his heel and bolted back to Adam's side. He was already barking orders over his comm watch, "Anyone nearby sees a kid booking it for the lower cars, grab him. Gimme an engineer, now. A medic too, if we can spare it." He didn't want to say they might have to switch to auxiliary power, mainly because he didn't want to think of it. An idiot separatist, smuggled into the Forge's quarters. Allowed to touch his food and medication. He was running through the list of dead men in his head when he felt Adam's warm hand on his other wrist.

"Tav," he said shakily, looking up at him with watering eyes. His mind ground to a halt. The urgency was stopped dead by the overwhelming need to comfort, and he knelt in front of the larger man to take his face in his hands. "You're alright," Tav murmured, not believing himself. "We just... we uhm-" His throat dried up. His initial response was to get him to throw up whatever he'd ingested the kid might have tampered with, but he knew the dangers of that. If it did damage going down, it would do damage coming up, and it might not even all come up. Not to mention the risk to his airway depending on the poison. It had to be poison. That was not the reaction of a boy innocently handing off food to the heart of the Pennydurren. "We..." he tried again, and again came up with nothing.

Adam's blood swelled in his ears. The light playing against his ribs and heart flickered with the rabbit quick gait of his pulse. Something acrid, a mild bitterness he hadn't noticed while he was eating, was creeping up from his throat to his tongue. Tav's stricken face wasn't doing anything to bely his fears. Something in the Forge's expression made him move and he shifted to stand, tilting his head up. "Just sit tight, alright? I'm right here, I'm not letting anything happen to you." He immediately went to fetch the EKG machine, leads, and a few other pieces of medical equipment they'd rarely had call to use outside the annual checkups. He deposited his load at Adam's feet as the Forge tried to get air into lungs that felt like wood in his chest.

Tav placed the leads in six spots across his collarbone and sternum, and connected them to the bulky monitor at his feet. It warbled as it flickered to life, mirroring his racing heart. Already it had climbed to 100 beats per minute, his chest rising and falling quicker. His Keeper wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his sinewy upper arm and was halfway through inflating it when one of the engineers stepped through the doorway.

Marsh was a man Tav had only had brief interactions with, and he had hardly got the question out when the Keeper hurriedly informed him, "That Fetcher was some kind of plant. I think he was trying to poison Adam." "Christ," the other man said, already rolling up his sleeves as he made for the engine chassis, "Who'd be so blindingly stupid? We’ll be sitting ducks without a Forge." "I have no idea, I need you to keep the pressure valves from blowing. His heartrate is spiking." Again, a large, soft hand fell over Tav's own. Comforting platitudes rose up until he looked up into the face of his Forge.

Blood leaked steadily down one nostril. "Tav," he ground out, the ancient monitor whirring louder as his heart shot up to 150 bpm and kept ticking up and up. "I can't... can't keep my eyes open." Even as he said it his head drifted back and snapped forward again, his dark lashes fluttering. His hair spilled across his face. It was paling quickly, his normally deep olive skin blanching, first around his cheeks, his hands, his feet, then spreading from the outside in. Blood pulled from his extremities, drawing into his torso to try and keep his vital organs fed as his body rang alarm bells that something wasn’t right. In the other cars, lights brightened and flickered, radios crackled from the sudden interference, and systems began to overheat as his taxed organ pumped too hard for his body and the Pennydurren both.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Tav hurriedly reassured him, cradling the back of his neck with a slightly shaky hand. He glanced once more at the monitors, his stomach bottoming out as the crackling display read 170 bpm. He was fully in tachycardia. Tav’s breath shook as he tried to control his breathing. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. Not Adam, himself, or the hundreds of people who would be forfeit to the fog outside the Pennydurren if the Forge went dark. The fog, and the things inside of it.

He pumped the pressure cuff until it finally gave him a reading, but it had no good news to share. Adam’s blood pressure was skyrocketing the same as his heart rate. It wouldn’t be able to sustain itself like this. Already Tav could see the the ventricles snapping out as the heart filled a little and recoiling as it squeezed out only half the amount of blood his body needed. If even half. He scrambled for the emergency hatch nearby which stored all manner of antiarrhythmic medications. It had something for every contingency. If his heart beat too fast, if it beat too slow, if it wasn’t beating at all. Tav shivered at the last thought, nearly dropping the vial of amiodarone as his hands shook especially hard. Beside him, Adam’s breathing had turned into noisy, sucking inhalations.

“Try to breathe deep for me,” he told him as he drew up a dose into a syringe. “In through the nose, out through the mouth, try to hold it for a few seconds.” “It hurts,” Adam ground out through a clenched jaw, “T-Tav, it… hurts to breathe…” “You gotta do it anyway, alright? Even if it hurts.” He held his forearm still as he slid the needle into a vein, steadily depressing the plunger. The amiodarone flooded into his system, and Tav rubbed a gentle circle over the injection site with his thumb as he drew away.

Marsh cursed from across the room, struggling to secure a panel of the engine which had begun to bulge and strain against its riveting. It shuddered in tandem with the ventricles in Adam’s chest, like the machinery was a crude model demonstrating what was going wrong with his heart. “Damn thing’s about to pop,” he growled, and then it did, a sharp metal sound popping like a cork as one of the bolts shot off and ricocheted off the floor. “We gotta switch to auxiliary power, he’ll overheat half the train’s systems at this rate.” “Just do whatever you need to do!”

Tav was busy hauling the defib unit up from the emergency hatch. It had sat unused for decades, and he wasn’t even sure if it had any juice left, but the thing came to life when he hit the power button, ready to shock his heart into working order. He could see the shadow of Adam’s heart starting to skip and quiver every few beats, stumbling to keep up with itself. His head was slumped forward against his chest, his eyelids weighed down. He couldn’t even sit upright. Tav thought absently how he could work better with him on the floor or a bed, but knew the ports and cables hung from his back would prevent that. “Adam,” he began, cracking on his name, “C’mon, stay with me. Stay with me, kid.”

He grabbed a tube of conduction gel from the kit and applied a good amount on the metal plane of the defibrillator paddles, rubbing them against one another to spread it evenly. He clicked the 100j mark and watched the bar climb as it charged. Adam’s body shone with sweat, his breathing deteriorated into swallow sips at air. Tav needed only a glance at his chest to confirm he had gone from a dangerously high heart rate to ventricular fibrillation. The shadow of his heart was quivering uselessly. “I’m sorry about this,” he murmured more to himself than to the Forge, who was likely past understanding him by now. He settled the paddles between the EKG leads on his sternum and to the side of his ribs, the gel making them slick against his sweat soaked chest. He jabbed the discharge buttons.

Adam felt the mule kick him in the chest. His muscles spasmed painfully, head jerking back on his neck, the muscles of his chest jumping and his arms flinching inward. He loosed a pathetic sounding groan as the charge dissipated from his muscles, unable to do much more than sit there and whimper. There was another electric whine and he felt the cold metal squish against the spots the gel had made the first time. No, he thought but couldn’t find his voice, Tav, please, you have no idea how bad that hurt. There came another click and another violent current, rippling across his muscles. He managed to find his voice enough to yelp that time, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw in air and he began to moan on every exhalation.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Tav was saying but Adam couldn’t hear him. This was a deeply necessary pain he was inflicting, but it was still pain, and it hurt his own heart to do this to his friend. A spiteful voice called him a coward for even thinking that. Adam was more than a friend, they both knew it, but Adam had been too shy for confessions and Tav too stubborn. Now he was staring into those heavy lidded eyes as they glistened with tears, and he had the horrible sinking sensation of being too late. His chest ached to hear the crackling wheeze of his breaths, and he set the defibrillator down for the moment. His heart was beating too fast still, but it was beating instead of shaking uselessly, which was something at least. Tachycardia was only a little preferable to v-fib.

He rummaged in the emergency kit and cursed when he could find no oxygen mask. Wiping his sweaty palm off on his pant leg, he stood above the Forge and leaned his head back against his shoulders, mindful not to overextend his airway. “I’m gonna give you some air,” he told him, but words had long stopped making sense to Adam. He swiped at the blood under his nose with a thumb. He pinched the Forge’s nostrils closed with one hand, the other resting on the arch of his throat. He blew hot air into his mouth. Adam’s cheeks bulged, his throat flexing with the intrusion of another person’s breath forcing its way down into his lungs.

Delirious with pain, the mouth to mouth felt like one more agony to add to the list. It forcibly expanded his chest, warring with his own breathing patterns, and he moaned out the intrusive air against Tav’s lips. Just kiss me normally. Let me kiss you without all this awfulness. Another breath breached the sanctum of his airway. He felt the warmth of tears sliding down from the corners of his eyes. When the seal made of their mouths broke, he sobbed, and became aware of the hands holding his face. They were the last thing he was aware of before the lights abruptly switched off.

“I promise I’m helping,” Tav was telling him, running a thumb over his sweaty brow. “I know this… this must all hurt like hell, but I’m helping.” “How’s he doing?” Marsh called out, fighting one of the huge switches to activate the backup generators. Tav glanced at the heart monitor and growled, “God damn it- he’s fibrillating again!” He released his hold on his face and went to scoop up the paddled again, until he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

Adam’s chest bucked unexpectedly. Tav paused, taken slightly aback. His shoulder jerked forward off the back of the chair and he went still. Then it jerked again, and Tav had only a moment to react before Adam locked up in a seizure. The Keeper crashed into a seated position in his Forge’s lap, standing his shaking body up so he could press him against his chest. “Christ,” he sobbed, unable to contain himself a moment more. He was cracking in two. He held tightly to his charge as his body shuddered, shaking violently against him. Adam was bigger than he was, better cared for, and a few times Tav was nearly knocked out of his lap by the surging waves of his seizing. He held tight, hooking his feet under a panel of the chair to keep him there as he cradled his thrashing body. He pressed his cheek against the other man’s and heard his teeth click and grind.

“Please,” Tav whispered in a broken husk of a voice, “God, please…” Adam’s head knocked against his Keeper’s temple until a pair of large hands slid between them and kept his head still. He looked only briefly to see Marsh on the other side of the chair, helping to still his tormented body. Tav squeezed him a little harder and nodded his thanks.

He could feel Adam’s muscles tensing at random intervals under his hands. His throat gurgled as the muscles there were caught in the tide of spasms. His heart, dangerously overtaxed, had fallen out of fibrillation and back into tachycardia. It was pounding hard against Tav’s thin ribcage, where his own heart hammered in fear. It felt like Adam’s would punch out from his sternum and crack Tav’s ribs with the intensity at which it was beating. “It’s okay,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “It’s okay, I’ve got you… I’ve got-“

Then the pounding stopped.

[fatalrhythms]

TW: CNC little CYOA i wrote a couple of weeks ago based on an old fantasy of mine 🥰